Posts Tagged ‘life’

The Grado SR60i is just a bit less expensive (on the street), and comes from a design philosophy that seems to parallel the approach Shure has taken with the 440s.

The Grados have a mid-range emphasis as compared to a mid-treble emphasis on the Shures, which means the Grados sound richer but perhaps not as lively (though the Grados will never be accused of sounding dead).

I’m supposed to talk about how good the Grado SR60i Open Back Headphones over the Shure SRH440 Closed Back Headphones that I owned. I would even wanted to make a benchmark on the Shure SE310 Noise-Canceling In-Ear Headphones too against those two, despite being the most expensive headphones that I owned (RM1080 last 2 year, now RM888).

Then, I wrote this instead.

Past vs. Karma

I dated a girl who already got a Miri Boy Eins. I got introduced to the concept of soul mate. I got into the middle of the relationship — going awry with delusion and rampant jealousy. I apologized and broke up. She likes headphone.

I befriended a girl who’s into music. I got introduced to the concept of gastronomy and musical muse. Miri Boy Zwei got into the middle of the friendship with delusion and rampant jealousy over headphone gift. He apologized and make up. She still likes the headphone.

But on both account. The relationship with them turned sour. I became indifferent.

I used to rant a lot about that Miri Boy Eins, then Miri Boy Zwei arrived in my life. And what did you know, my last-relationship (not related with the Miri Boy Eins, Zwei or Drei) ended up while I’m offshore in Miri.

What the fuck, Miri. This is not Zack and Miri make a Porno [2008] gone hardcore.

But now I realised how Godop felt. That Miri boy whom I kept referring to the scene of Waiting for Godot.

I’m Vladimir.

I’m Estragon.

I’m sorry it took 6 years to realise how abstract our past relationship had gone into, it became too intricate.

On the day I found this in my timeline with all the rage just gave in:

I write.

Writes.

Writes.

[delete] [delete] [delete]

And ended up deleting the draft.

I wrote another one in the tumblr instead because the headphone girl picture relives so much nostalgia.

lainieyeoh:

Digital illustration for a music night poster.

This is based on a good friend, for another good friend. Entire thing done using a mouse — I no has tablet anymore, after the dog ate the two tablet pens for the Intuos, and my spare cheapo tablet’s wire is broken.

I put a heart on the headphone to mark how I’m spending Valentine’s. WORKING!

Headph0ne Phet1sh.

I’m an avid listener to music. I burn-in my headphone set by thousands of minutes.

It’s only natural I share my passion with others. Yes, I spent hundreds and thousand on audiophile set for the so called studio experience.

I’m not a sound engineer but I appreciated the value of crisp sound to video production. I own directional Rode video microphone and omni-directional Zoom H4n just to make sure I got the sound right in my video take.

One guy pissed me off the day before the V-Day.

It may seemed petty for “still” feeling insulted by mere tweet for an uncalled hip-hop gesture of juxtaposed expression of his jealousy and of me lending a girl (who’s his new found affection and a long last.fm friend of mine) an expensive headphone. The hurt part is to equate all of these into one middle-finger 140 characters tweet — that I’m trying “to get into her pants.” His own choice of word may not be ghetto, but it sure smacked me right into the face.

There’s a lot of good train of thought that night before it gone head up to this “petty” barrier.

I’m sorry for having a grudge, usually I would ignore it. But that night, there’s too many up and down for me to ignore this little spat.

I forgive you, eventually you’ll know I’ll, since you are keen to spy on me with different twitter account. I’m in the production community, I know it’s your pseudonym.

Why do I rant here?

The operative words of headphone, heart and Wacom tablet.

I just bought 2 Wacom tablets to my sister and brother who’s very much into deviantART account. Neither of them a graphic designer. That doesn’t mean I’m into incest. (I own one too, an old Intuos3 A5. I love Wacom product.)

That may not be sound odd in familial way — being good to your siblings — but try being a good samaritan with the opposite gender of your closest friend.

You must knew about the UK & Eire Knuke Tour: Altimet & Monoloque? You should, since you’re in their social circle and a producer. I didn’t go to UK to cover the videography due to my other day job: offshore engineering stuff. Yet I’m willing to support a friend who’s working with the tour with my shoulder-mount Redrock Micro rig, 64GB Extreme Pro CF cards and other videography rig for free. That tiny square card alone cost me RM3k. Am I looking for a buttsex?

I’m not the person who build up name in the photography and videography world with the word [your name] photography and [your name] videography watermarked on the online portfolio. I feel I’m not good enough for this self-branding.

Maybe I would in the motion-control time-lapse sense, since it’s my niche market.

Hey, no grudge.

I’m just ranting.

Even though this rant is mild in comparison with what I drafted in my wordpress blog.

Here comes the problem, I knew some of your friend that my name might have pop-up somewhere in the conversation — like the one you did during your meet-up with your friend (and mine) at The Cookie Cat store. Publishing it, shall make both party uncomfortable.

It’s in the draft. No worries.

Thanks for the DM, you know I’m a cool guy (your word, not mine) when I end up this conversation with this quotes: Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.

+++

I’m not going to direct this post to you just yet.

But one of your friend might.

Cheers.

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Afterthought. I blame 6 hours of non-stop Deftones tracks (The Strokes on top of the playlist) for being Chino Moreno on you. “Head up!”

+++

UPDATE: Uzairsawal answered.

I think you quote me wrongly: “his (you) new found affection and a long last.fm friend of mine.” Jeez.

Alright, both of you can kiss and make up, now.

I don’t understand you, too.

For people who don’t know me, to judge me.

+++

It’s stranger than fiction and like the movie Stranger than Fiction [2006], I end up being in love with a baker who used to study in law school, even though she end up with a Master Degree in something else. The last 2 exes are TEASL major, so is she. What’s with me and language student?

Haih.

Even though the courtship is premature, but a night of Deftones at KL Live with her is all that I need on the Black Valentine’s Day. Perhaps, The Gotan Project later at MPO would be more laid-back than the crazy night of moshing.

“Do I want to continue marrying the same person who constantly makes me cry because he cannot forget his past lover and these are proven by his stalking activities on her and his continuous referral to her?” — Sue

“After a while you’ll forget everything, it was a brief interlude and a midsummer night’s fling and you’ll see that it’s time to move on…[Meat Loaf]” from my ex-gf “public” twitter. An Interlude inside the blind spot.

What I meant on that comment is I’ve to move on from the past entanglement. Funnily enough, it’s déjà vu all over again. I can see the pattern now. Sue would have a problem of me ‘stalkin’ Ebb and previously: Sewya with Amie, Ebb with Sewya, Sue with Ebb, Ms. Vava Voom with Sue…etc.

The haunting of past memory — made anew — fueling the distrust, basking in its flame.

I’m sorry I can’t be more at a present in-real-life than what she found out about me from the internet alter-ego.

I’m always away — weeks and months. I can’t blame her. The twitter (retweet), flickr (MMO avatar set) and youtube (the small inscription at the profile) incident that she found out while I’m away justifies that much of the misunderstanding.

I took 3 days leave just to digest that one entry from her. I’m depressed. I can’t be at work desk, much less gone back to Singapore for the Aramco mob to Dubai.

I’ve been refraining myself from contacting her after that small warning from her fb last month, just after I touchdown KL from Miri.

I can’t sleep throughout the night. Yesterday, I can’t take it no more. I text her at dawn, told her how I felt. She replied passively in her blog entry. The same mode of reply after I try to reconnect the 3 month incommunicado.

Her reply summarized it all.

It’s time to delete her name from the speed dial, keeping her number still.

Take down her gift of the key chain bracelet with her name inscribed from the reading desk lamp. Her first gift that I always bring along with me whenever I gone outstation and offshore — the same goes with that “Paris Metro (Subway) System Map” (hehehe, she’s sweet, like that) and the Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet (the only author that we always cherished his works, pity that I can’t live the dream of The Prophet).

The rest, she already done emptying the vessel of this mortal heart in advance.

I compartmentalized the memories; the morning wishes, the evening sadness and the night kisses.

There’s always a bit of the memories of the past that make you sad or smile. We can revel in our past, but to relive them is unnecessary.

I missed a lot of thing during the span of the new year, even though I’ve been taking a day off from the very event that I’m scheduled to participate — yet job precedes ‘everything’, and the replacement leaves had been accumulating to hundred of days, exceeding 4 months.

I missed all the Steve McCurry workshop and talk last year (and the last 1st week of January 2010) due to my work.

I missed a couple of concert and art event, even though I’m just around Singapore at that time — can’t be away, since that would be MIA.

I missed the solar eclipse while I’m in Singapore — I didn’t bring my 5DM2 with me, due to excess baggage — the EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) took half of my bag spaces.

I misses her — Sue.

Recent news of her dad is in a good light. He’s recuperating well. The malignant cancer receding.

I’m happy for her.

Then came the news of the accepted proposal from ‘Mr. Paint-Man’.

I’m…happy for her?

I’m at Miri offshore and Labuan onshore in the span of 3 months when we broke up. When she broke up with me with that text to my parent.

The reason: because I follow my ex-gf Twitter and the Flickr set of a virtual avatar with my ex-gf. Seriously, this is the first time social networking becomes a reason for a break-up to me.

When it comes to proposal, isn’t it my parent advice to both of us to wait for your dad condition to get better?

She did told me, she’s joining an art class while I’m away being offshore, but I’ve never thought it’s more than just canvas painting.

It’s all right to defend myself, she said but never once I’ve got the chance to meet up.

Then came the acerbic comments of her relatives and friends in the Facebook regarding me, which she finally deleted me from her list. What’s the story behind that bitterness?

I’ve revisited the spot, the gallery, the route, the eateries and the sanctum of our shared thought — the last one month after the Miri long project. I’ve never felt so distant when I’m just physically close to the shadow of that past.

It’s so kafkaesque.

That reminds me, she still has a copy of my Franz Kafka’s Metamorphosis and Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis. Then again, she gave me a hard copy of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet. Maybe that’s a good deal of books swap.

Just tonight, before I read her entry. I walk along the Sushi Restaurant that we used to go. It’s one of the first time we had a long conversation. I remember when she cried when I told her how I remain supportive of her — all those years when I got back from UK. That thought alone is the strongest, on how frail humanity are without their love one. Holding her hand is comforting — like a comforting thought of mutual adoration.

Those years back from UK, we’re just friend back then, with me having a whole lot more problem with my life: dad in IJN having a by-pass surgery, my working visa being refused by UK Immigration and Customs while I got a house and bills to settle back in UK, just going through another break-up and having a fresh start with life with cynicism while the family got loads of lawsuit from relatives due to the lion’s share of the late grandfather’s wealth.

Life is full with cynicism.

I’m content with my past ex-gf who helped me to gain my confidence back, to live life optimistically. Which is ironic, when I’m the one who’s usually being the good listener, and giving other people hope and motivation.

With Sue, I’m living a hope.

I finally got a full-frame sensor Canon Eos 5D Mk II, even though I’m just a hobbyist and she’s camera shy. She’s sweet like that :)

I make an appointment with property agent to buy a house nearby her area of work, once she quit that awful university in Gombak — actually the awful part is the administration and her She-Monster boss. I’ve never told her that, about the apartment or the house.

I would sell the L lenses to afford a decent wedding. I took the 3 month project with a heavy heart because I knew the offshore allowances could at least support me for the RM10k I needed for the wedding.

I talk to my newly-wed colleagues about the procedure and all those paperwork. Which I kept the small note inside my wallet as a reminder.

When she told me about her male Arabic (and the Russian) student who keep on nagging her with marriage proposal, it’s hard to tell her to be patient and wait for me to come back from offshore.

Then the news of her dad’s illness of nasopharyngeal cancer. Which my mum advised both of us, to wait till her dad’s better health before any marriage proposal to be made — when I’m somewhere near the platform in Miri.

Just a few weeks before I gone off to Miri, I’ve invited her to meet my parent for dinner.

There’s so much hope in that small gathering amongst my siblings and parent.

That hope still alight, but it just not with her.

I wish my ex(es) as well as former female best friends happiness and serenity and I believe that we part in good terms due to differences in thoughts and outlook in life.

Differences?

Oh yeah, different geography and art class.

I’m happy for her.

With only bitterness to myself.

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Alcest is playing Ciel Errant from the Souvenirs d’Un Autre Monde album in the background.

By opening the eyes in the morning
Immediately the pain fills me
But sometimes I feel nothing
Or just the great feeling
Not be here …
I love when contemplating the sky
The feeling of fly
to passing clouds then fade
In the blue of an endless sea.

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And for the record:

I never called Ebb or in contact with her since I dated you (Sue).

I don’t know who’s the one keep telling you lies about Ebb and me while I’m virtually incommunicado during offshore.

You (Sue) should know better.

Didn’t you experience the same state of erratic communication while I’m offshore for 6 months non-stop years back?

It’s only 3 months — and I promise to get back to you (Sue).

I got back — with discontent. Blaming my self, my job, my cynicism and my tolerance for patience for this failure.

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
—the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

— e. e. cummings (1894-1962)

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His tools were secular, but he practiced a religion nonetheless. It was the romantic individualist’s religion of the heart, in which love is not an emotion but a deity. Its creed was faith in the miracle of man’s individuality, his capacity for delight in beauty, in spring, in flowers, in girls. Its galaxy of devils, which grew as Cummings observed the modern world (“a hoax of clocks and calendars”), included dry intellects, science, mass thought, security worship, Sigmund Freud—everything inside man or outside him that tends to limit his individualism, to reduce his sense of wonder.